Eight Arms To Stroke You
Once upon a time my mordant wit and vaguely misanthropic bent was mistaken by a healthcare professional for clinical depression and I was duly prescribed some antidepressants. I was fairly certain I didn't need the little fuckers but as I have always been game for better living through chemistry I dutifully began chowing them down with my morning coffee and waiting for something to happen.
Nothing ever did.
Well, there was one thing...
It seems that some medications commonly prescribed for depression may induce a side effect known as "anorgasmia" wherein the hapless victim is rendered unable to orgasm or is only able to orgasm with enormous effort. Now, clearly this is a patently defective product - a pill that's supposed to stop you from feeling like shit that also happens to inhibit your ability to enjoy one of life's greatest physical pleasures.
Setting aside, however, the question of what sort of demented pharmacologist would think this was an acceptable product to dump on the unwitting market of depressed individuals in the world, I had been taking the things for a week or so when, late one night, I ambled into the massage parlor I had been regularly frequenting for a rub and tug. At that time, I had seen one particular young lady there a number of times and we had gotten into a pretty solid rhythm. I hadn't had such great luck with the other girls there but my go to girl, who called herself Mimi, was always a good bet.
That particular night, Mimi was busy when I arrived, but I was too impatient to wait so I went with Susie, who was a little less attractive to my eyes but still a solid choice. She gave me the usual table shower and administered a passable massage before dimming the lights and getting to the fun stuff.
She teased me nicely, oiled me up and got me hard. She started jacking me off slowly and deliberately and it felt great. She kept on jacking me, speeding up, harder, faster, faster...it felt so good and yet I couldn't feel anything resembling an orgasm rumbling up through my body. Usually at least I can feel it approaching. This time I felt the pure sensation of a highly professional handjob but no orgasm waving to me as it approached.
Susie could tell - most girls who've given a few handjobs can pretty much tell when you're gonna come - and she took action, oiling up her left index finger and slowly sliding it into my ass until she reached my prostate. It felt impossibly good...but not good enough for me to come, apparently. She kept at it, jacking me faster, the finger in the ass, both of us sweating, me arching my hips upward...nothing.
Susie was getting tired. She looked at me long and hard and asked if I'd been drinking. I swore I had not. I said "look, I don't know what's wrong. Maybe it's not gonna happen." Now, as an aside, who among you, in your professional life, allows a client to walk away without getting what they came for? Most career-minded souls won't permit such a state of affairs, and Susie was no slacker. She waved off my resignation and started jacking me again, her arm a crazy high speed up-and-down blur as she simply pulled out all the stops to achieve...nothing.
She was frustrated and I was apologetic but she wasn't ready to give up. She went out of the room for a moment and came back with Cici, another girl who worked there who I had met once or twice. At this point I was the only customer in the place. They left the door open because it was getting warm in there, then they both pulled their shirts off and got down to business. Cici put her delicious breasts in my mouth. Susie slid that finger up my ass again and started jacking me slowly...faster...faster...Cici's hands were everywhere and so were mine. Susie was pulling on my cock relentlessly...and then...nothing. Still hard as a rock...still nothing.
They traded positions, Susie teasing me while Cici jacked me off. The mamasan, a 50ish Korean lady who still looked good, poked her head in to see what the fuck was happening and saw the train wreck in progress and I guess felt compelled to help. She came in the room and stood at my head, rubbing my shoulders and talking dirty. Three women attending to me at once, I felt like I might implode...I felt an orgasm building up inside me. Cici was working it hard. All three were talking about my big strong cock. Hands and breasts and asses were everywhere...it was coming...coming...coming...and then it disappeared.
The girls all smiled and giggled and said my cock was strong but I could see that behind the smiles they were snarling and cursing. Then Mimi walked in the room and assessed the situation. She was instantly in control and knew what to do. She shooed Cici away and got up on the table, sitting between my legs. Cici and Susie positioned themselves at my side and ran their hands everywhere while the mamasan leaned over my head with her substantial breasts hanging in my face as she said filthy things and rubbed me. Mimi grabbed my cock with one hand and slid and expert finger in my ass with the other. She instantly made contact with my prostate and I made an involuntary moan.
Desperation had set in. I needed to come so badly it was beginning to hurt. I whispered to Mimi. "Please, please baby, please make me come."
Let's step back one second and assess the scene here. We're at a mediocre rub and tug place in Koreatown. I walked in about an hour and a half before and have been getting jacked off for a full hour without an orgasm. I now have eight hands working on me. Three pairs of hands belong to massage girls in their thirties, two of whom are topless and are rubbing my chest. The third is sitting between my legs with a finger all the way up my ass as she jerks me off. The fourth set of hands belongs to the fiftyish Mama, who has displayed a singular talent for whispering filthy, filthy things into my ear.
It is in that context that Mimi began to jack me off slow and nice before beginning to speed up. Her timing and rhythm were perfect. I slid my right hand into Cici's pants and my left into Susie's and felt their asses and then worked my way down to touch both of their moist pussies at once. I could see their flushed faces above me as Mimi hit the perfect pace and I felt an orgasm building inside me like a little volcano. I felt the intensity growing and I said it out loud "yeah, baby, that's it, that's it. It's coming."
All four women were cooing dirty little phrases and touching me relentlessly. It was building now, rushing up through me. Mimi's hand was like a jackhammer, faster and harder and then even faster and I felt it flowing up through me and I raised my hips and cried out wordlessly and I started spewing my sticky load. One shot, then another, then another. My legs were shaking uncontrollably. All four ladies gave a little cheer and Susie actually started applauding for a second. I scanned their faces and saw the expressions of relief coupled with a mild irritation that I knew I would have to do something to resolve.
Where they would usually help me get dressed at this place after the festivities, on this particular night I believe they felt their work was done and they left me to get it together on my own. I emerged, sheepishly, and tipped them all generously for their efforts. Susie thanked me and said "next time." I looked at her sideways. She laughed and said "next time, you go with her" and she pointed at the Mamasan, who laughed a thick, hearty laugh.
I vowed to make a triumphant return. Mercifully, I found out about the deeply inconvenient side effect of my medication and stopped taking it immediately. I refrained from sexual activity of any sort for a full week. Then I returned. Susie greeted me with a frown and handed me off to an apprehensive Cici...who proceeded to earn the easiest tip of her career by jacking me off for less than five minutes before the reinvigorated Otis delivered his payload.
And so, dear friends, you may ask, what is the moral of the story, the moral of this tale? In truth, the lesson here is simple. Life offers many pleasures, great and small. You can aim high or low or anywhere in between but given the opportunity to throw you a curve ball, life will always take the bait. Had I known those pills would make it so difficult for me to reach the simple pleasure on which I rely to make it through my days, I might never have even considered taking them. But then I would never have had a story like this to share with you all.
Go well, brothers, and whenever you see the unexpected before you, step lively, step quickly, and walk without fear.
